


you look like a dog shitted all over you

by daffcdils



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27399073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daffcdils/pseuds/daffcdils
Summary: "Smelly Jeffie?" He grimaces. "That's who you're upset about?"You glare at him. "Yes, Tozier. I am upset that the guy I liked and thought who liked me back was sucking Katie Miller's face off in the girls bathroom."
Relationships: Richie Tozier/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	you look like a dog shitted all over you

"You look like a dog shitted all over you," It is a quip so comical and yet so crude, that if you aren't the mess you are now, you would have laughed. You don't need to dart your eyes up from your cowering form to figure out who the newcomer is. In fact, you brace yourself for the second-half of the vulgar remark you know he is preparing. And like the wizard he pretends to be during your D&D sessions, the trashmouth descends. "You don't _smell_ like shit, and that stain on your sleeve _might_ be shit, but you get my point. Or better yet. Did you _eat_ —"

Your nose crinkles at the thought. "Shut up, Richie."

Richie Tozier slides onto the plastic seat beside you with a dull screech. Beads of sweat decorate his temples, the ends of his black hair curling to meet the evidence of physical activity. "Okay, okay. I'm just saying what you look like. To an outsider, that is."

You let his statement float into the air, listless to chide him for it.

 _Of course you looked like shit_. 

You would have loved to blame the douchebag that is Jeffrey Adams from the eighth grade, with his handsome features, pretty brown eyes, and stupid _hair_ —

A groan escapes you.

You bang your forehead against your forearms with a hard thud, begging the thoughts to go fuck themselves.

Richie would never remain quiet if one of his friends did something odd. Not the kind of odd that would land you in the mental asylum a town away from Derry, but the peculiar kind oddness that would scream: 'jesus christ, what the hell happened to you?' "If anyone ordered the grumpy-troll menu, the waiter would definitely bring you to the table."

"Richie, if you don't shut up, I'll make sure to hook up with your _Daddy_ so hard that you have to call me 'Mommy' next week."

He laces a French accent into his next words. But Richie isn't fluent in French, nor can he speak a French phrase without sounding like something that comes out from the 'French for pre-school' class. So they barrel out of his mouth, sounding a bit British. "Mahdemohselle, 'hot 'as happen'd to you? You wa'r as wi Fronch _say..._ "

Tears well in your eyes. Richie's irritation train and the whole escapade you witnessed earlier jumbles in your mind like a disgusting, vegetable smoothie. You bite your lip to prevent the waterworks you didn't want to be teased for. Unfortunately a few plop onto the skin of your arms and you harshly swipe them away.  
  
Your friend must have finished his failure of a French impersonation since he switches back to being coherent. "So... Why are you looking like you stuffed rocks up your—"

 _Jesus._ "Beep-beep Richie."

"Fine," he sighs.

You catch him rolling his eyes before his gaze lands squarely on your face. There's no doubt that he's feeling uncomfortable. You usually matched with his quick, disgusting jesters with a beat. Now, you're acting exactly like Eddie did when he had enough of the banter. A twinge of guilt pulls your gut, smacking you on the head for being rude to one of your closest friends. But on the other hand, you couldn't bother to muster up the peppy spirit needed to deal with Richie Tozier.

"Remember Jeffrey from the other class?" What the hell. At least you'll be done with it. "Of course you do," you reply to yourself after seeing Richie cringe, then feign innocence when he shakes his head. "Seems like he's dating Katie from the seventh grade."

"Smelly Jeffie?" He grimaces. "That's who you're upset about?"

You glare at him. "Yes, Tozier. I am upset that the guy I liked and thought who liked me back was sucking Katie Miller's face off in the girls bathroom."

"Well, you definitely dodged a bullet there!" He abruptly stands up, smacking your shoulder with fervent pats. "I heard he got syph from Maggie in—"

"Can we _not_ talk about it?"

It starts with a sniffle and ends with a hurricane, is what you think the moment a barrage of tears slide down your cheeks. Your throat aches from the endeavor of keeping your feelings all bottled up. You don't want anyone to see you so... ugly, disgusting? 

You hear Richie sit back down, his side bumping into your shoulder. You can feel the heat radiating from his body at the closeness between you two. It didn't make your heart rush into car accident like speeds, but the gesture fills your eyes with even more tears.

"Come on. Don't cry over that fucker," he says indelicately. You sense anger within his words but dismiss the thought. Richie is never known for a careful mouth, and that just might be apart of his trashmouthy habit. "You-you're uh, pretty. And smart, and cool. And if a dump-truck like that couldn't see that, then you're better off without him."

He pats your hair with surprising tenderness. "Don't cry."

It takes you a few more minutes of a finger arched to wipe away your vulnerability, but the crying eventually stops. You know that your eyes might look puffy, but at least that's better than snot running down your face. 

"You okay?" Richie asks with genuine concern.

"Yeah," you sniff. You take his hand, squeezing it to show your gratitude. But you say it anyway. "Thank you."

He shrugs. "No problemo, senior! And if you want to—please say yes—we could call the others and have a grueling rockfight sequel. I could bash his head in with a large, large rock." The beckons you with a finger. "Or, or... better yet. _You_ could bash his head in! Let his brain fly everywhere!"

"No thanks," you reply, winking when he raises an eyebrow to question you. "I'd rather not touch anything that would give me syph. Uck."

"Hey,"

"Yeah?"

"You look like a dog shitted all over you," he repeats with a smirk.

"So does your _mother_ , Tozier!"

**Author's Note:**

> okay. okay. i binged watched it pt. i & ii again and boy am i obsessed with trashmouth richie tozier.


End file.
